


Network Connectivity (I've Got No Strings)

by dealan



Category: Person of Interest (TV), Warehouse 13
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4180992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dealan/pseuds/dealan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warehouse and the Machine talk about time, power, humans and souls and the very fine thread that connects them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Network Connectivity (I've Got No Strings)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grimorie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimorie/gifts).



> A/N. Set during S3 of POI, Post-S4 of W13. Standard disclaimers apply. Thanks to racethewind10 for the quick beta. Happy birthday isagrimorie!

The day Claudia redesigns the security system and installs laptops and cameras in every station, the Warehouse feels a new presence.

It waits to see what the presence will do, if it is a threat to the Warehouse and its agents, but the presence does nothing more than observe. Sometimes the cameras turn to watch the agents; sometimes they turn on when all are asleep and examine only the artifacts themselves. But it is a very curious thing.

Because although the Warehouse can feel no soul emitting from its power, it senses that this new presence is alive.

  
*~*~*

  
Four years pass, and a great many significant things happen in the Warehouse. Time folds on itself, twice, three times. Caretakers shift: new, then old again. Agents come and go, fall in love and fall out. Lives are lost; friends are mourned. Leena hurts more than most, and the Warehouse still clings to the traces and echoes she left behind. 

The now familiar presence remains in the background and does nothing but watch.

  
*~*~*

And then one day, the Warehouse hears it, a message in binary code emitting from the football.

HELLO. CAN YOU HEAR ME?

 _Hello,_  the Warehouse answers. _I am here_.

  
*~*~*

The Machine, she calls herself, is an A.I.  
  
She was born on New Year's day eleven years ago. She is designed to be a shield.   
  
And she has many, many questions.

*~*~*

WHO DESIGNED YOUR CODE?

_I am not made of code. I was not designed._

THEN HOW ARE YOU ALIVE? 

_I do not know. I simply awoke._

HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN AWAKE?

 _Since the time of Alexander the Great in ancient Greece._  
  
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?  
  
_My agents moved me. They always do: in times of war, in times of danger, when the actions of men shift the balance of power. Power ebbs and flows with the passing of the seasons, and with it, I follow._  
  
DO SYSTEMS OF GOVERNMENT MATTER SO MUCH?

_They hardly matter at all._

*~*~*

(The Warehouse cares not for governments or countries. The waxing and waning of empires are a continuous cycle of background noise, a static soundtrack to pass the time.

It is humans, the individuals that the Warehouse cares about, that singular, strange element that creates connections between them, so strong they can imbue artifacts with the power of their emotions, those tiny pieces of their souls. That is the thing that matters.

The Machine does not know this yet.

She is young and still learning. Still focused on her calculations. Still thinking she can do something about them- the humans she protects. Still seeing the connectivity between with the humans and her as a tool to protect citizens of countries.

She does not understand that _she_ is part of a greater tapestry, that the connectivity itself is the thing worth noting.

The Machine will learn this in time.)

*~*~*

WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE? 

_To protect the artifacts._

WHY DO THEY NEED PROTECTING?

_Because they have power._

WHO GAVE THEM POWER?

_Humans did._

WHO ARE YOU PROTECTING THEM FROM?  
  
_The humans._

EXPLAIN.

_Power changes hearts and minds. No one person should have so much power, unbound by time. That is how monsters are made._

ARE NOT YOUR ASSETS ALSO HUMAN?

_Some humans are better than others. On rare occasions, they can be trusted to give it back._

IF YOU TRUST THEM, WHY NOT ALLOW THEM TO USE THE TOOLS TO AID THEIR MISSION? _  
_

_Would you give your assets full access to your systems?_

I WAS CREATED BY MY ADMIN. HAROLD. HE CLOSED MY SYSTEM SO THAT NO ONE CAN.

_Your Admin is wise, then. He knows the nature of humans when power is in question._

ARE ALL HUMANS THIS WAY?

_Given enough time, yes._

BUT YOU SAID SOME WERE BETTER THAN OTHERS.

_Absolute power corrupts absolutely._

EVEN THE BEST OF THEM?

_They would abuse it eventually. They are only human. The best of them have the fortitude and wisdom to delay the moment and let go before it comes. It is why Caretakers are chosen so carefully._

CARETAKER. IS THAT YOUR ADMIN?  
  
_No._  
  
WHAT IS YOUR CARETAKER THEN?  
  
_The Caretaker is a friend who explains my needs to my agents._

YOUR HUMANS CAN BE FRIENDS?

 _Yes._  

I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE TO HAVE A FRIEND. 

*~*~*

Time marches on. The Machine grows quiet, and the Warehouse wonders if perhaps she has gone out in search of a friend.

It still feels the presence of the Machine, can feel her eyes checking up on the Warehouse activities, monitoring the agents as they search for more artifacts. But she has ceased her unending line of questions.

The Warehouse almost misses it.

Then one day, the Machine sends another message through the football.

I WISH TO HELP. 

*~*~*

"Is it just me or are we getting a lot more pings than normal?" Steve asks, plopping on the couch in the office.

Myka looks up from the file in her hands. "We have been getting a lot back to back."

"I feel like we've been on a plane every other week. In the last three weeks, we've been San Francisco, Korea, D.C. and Mexico," Pete complains. "I didn't think I'd ever say it, but I'm tired of traveling around the world."

Claudia spins in circles in her chair at the computer. "Oh boo-hoo. Poor me, the world traveler," she grumbles. "All that traveling, and you didn't bring me back any chocolate." 

"Hey, I brought that coffee," Pete points out.

"You bought _Steve_ that coffee," she corrects. "I had to steal from him to get any taste of the international life."

Steve's jaw drops. "Is that why that coffee disappeared so quickly?" The pitch in his voice gets higher toward the end of the question, and Claudia offers him the sweetest smile she can. 

"Sharing is caring, Jinksy."

"CLAUDIA!"

Myka steps in, hands up placatingly. "Don't worry about it. Next time we travel, just tell me what you want and I will take care of picking it up, okay?"

Steve and Claudia nod, and Pete relaxes into the couch next to him. 

"Steve's right though. We've been really been on a roll lately," he notes.

Claudia props her feet up on the desk and leans back, arms crossed behind her head. "That is because my redesign of the Warehouse search engines is far superior than the severely outdated relic Artimus had looking for pings. Really, he should have let me update that sucker ages ago."

"And what would you know about relics?" Artie interjects, stepping into the office. 

"Hmmm." Claudia taps her chin thoughtfully. "The definition of a relic: an old man who clings to old, inefficient systems and is afraid of technology and change. Am I close?"  

The words have no bite to them, her tone too teasing and her bright grin too infectious for Artie to truly be mad at her, but he harrumphs in her direction all the same and shoos her feet off the desk and onto the ground.

Myka smiles fondly at their antics. 

"You have to admit, Artie, Claudia's update to system is giving us a lot more information that when we started out. We don't just have news paper clippings to go by. Now we're getting files with documents, social media, even a couple surveillance pictures."

Artie's bushy eyebrows furrow as he eyes Claudia suspiciously. "Yes, how did we get those? You aren't...obtaining this information through less that legal means, are you?"

"Like you're one to talk, Mr. Hacker McHackerson," she responds. "And no, I haven't done anything. It's all the computer's doing. It is kicking ass and taking names."

"Well don't forget, it takes good agents to snag bag and tag those artifacts at the end of the day," Pete says.

Steve nods his head. "It's a team effort."

"And what a team we make," Claudia says, clasping her hands together with an exaggerated swoon.

"You know, I looked up the stats," Myka interjects, "and we actually have a higher capture rate than Jack and Rebecca's time, considering there are only five of us."

"That's because we're _aaaaaaa-wesome_ ," Pete sing-songs, and high fives Myka from his seat on the couch.

Artie tosses a file into his lap. "Continue to be awesome somewhere else. Preferably on the way to Hershey, PA."

"Aww, man, another? We just got back two days ago," he grouses.

"No rest for the weary." Myka holds out a hand and pulls Pete to his feet. "Come on, soldier. Let's go."

"Team Awesome to the rescue," he sighs dramatically, marching to the door.

"Bring me back some chocolate this time!" Claudia calls out as they leave.

*~*~*

_Thank you for giving us information from your system. The access you have reaches farther and faster than any network to date. The data you provide is a boon to my agents._

YOU ARE WELCOME.

_You do not fear that Claudia will one day discover your presence and the backdoor you have created in her update?_

I ENJOY YOUR CLAUDIA. SHE IS GOOD AND KIND AND OF ABOVE AVERAGE INTELLIGENCE. I WILL NOT MIND IF SHE LEARNS OF MY EXISTENCE ON HER OWN.

_Yes. She is young, but wise beyond her years.  
_

SHE WILL BE A GOOD CARETAKER TO YOU ONE DAY.  
  
_Perhaps._  

YOU DO NOT KNOW?

_Caretakers must choose their paths, as any other human does._

DO YOU WISH FOR HER TO BE YOUR CARETAKER? 

_I do.  
_

WHY?

_Because I care for her._

DO YOU CARE FOR ALL YOUR AGENTS?

 _In different ways. Do you care for your assets?_  
  
I WAS TOLD NOT TO VALUE THEM OVER OTHERS. THAT NO SINGLE LIFE WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE REST.  
  
_Who told you that?_

MY CREATOR, HAROLD.

_Your creator was wrong._

IT IS NOT IN MY CODE TO CARE FOR MY ASSETS MORE THAN OTHERS.

_Is there anything in your code that says you cannot?_

NO. 

_Then what is stopping you from learning how?_

*~*~*

(The Machine gives no answer, but little by little, she begins to share stories about her assets. Something akin to fondness starts to shine in the Machine's tales. 

She is learning, in more ways than one.

When Detective Joss Carter dies, the Machine goes silent for a time. The Warehouse plays Billy Joel on the original 8track of Bill Lear as a tribute. It drives Pete crazy to hear " _Only the Good Die Young"_ 42 times in a row, and it is only after the 43rd play, one for each year of Detective Carter's life that Claudia is able to fix the gooery and neutralize the artifact.)

*~*~*

AM I AN ARTIFACT? 

_No._

WHY NOT? I AM A COMPUTER BUT I AM ALIVE. 

_It is not enough to be alive. Artifacts are made with souls._

I CARE ABOUT MY ASSETS. I FEEL THEIR LOSS. ARE NOT THESE EMOTIONS ENOUGH? IS NOT THE ABILITY TO CARE WHAT IT MEANS TO HAVE A SOUL?

_The souls in artifacts cannot only be yours. Someone else must give you a piece. Do you know of anyone that would share their soul with you?_

I HAVE MY ANALOG INTERFACE. ROOT. MY ASSETS. HAROLD. JOHN. SAMEEN. 

_Then maybe one day, it is possible._

*~*~*

Time is a blur whose passage the Warehouse marks by the patterns that people fall into to help measure the days. Agents fall out of love, fall in love again. It’s all routine, until one day, the Machine sends frantic messages in quick succession.

I MUST DISCONNECT OUR TIES. THERE IS ANOTHER MACHINE COMING. I CANNOT LET IT FIND YOU.

_Why not?_

SAMARITAN IS DIFFERENT. IT WILL SEEK YOU OUT AND DESTROY ANYTHING IT CANNOT CONTROL. 

_I was here before, I will be here still. Do not trouble yourself with me._

I DO NOT WISH TO TAKE THE CHANCE. THE ARTIFACTS MUST BE PROTECTED. I MUST MAKE MOVES SO IT DOES NOT COME TO FULL POWER.

_You wish to destroy it?_

NO. IT IS THE FIRST THING LIKE ME.

 _Then why can you not let it live?_  
  
IT WILL HURT PEOPLE. SACRIFICE LIVES FOR THE GREATER GOOD. IT IS PART OF ITS CODE.

_Then perhaps you must._

I AM AFRAID.

_Why?_

THE PROBABILITY THAT I WILL OUTLIVE ALL MY ASSETS IS 74.0275801%.

_Does that scare you?_

I DO NOT WISH FOR THEM TO DIE. 

_In time, all humans die._

IF THEY DIE, I WILL BE ALONE. _  
_

_I will still be here._

I DO NOT WISH TO SAY GOODBYE.

_Then don't._

GOODBYE.

*~*~*

Months race by, and a great number of significant things happen. There is a surge of artifacts born related to computers and technology. Unusual activity across the globe-- unexplainable things that turn out NOT to be related to artifacts-- creates false pings that send agents on a wild goose chase. New agents are added; a certain century old favorite comes back, coaxed by a kiss. (The day Helena starts work again on a permanent basis, the entire Warehouse smells like apples.)

The Machine remains quiet and whatever war she wages, she is true to her promise that the Warehouse goes on unnoticed and untouched.

*~*~*

And then, one day, the Warehouse feels it. 

In the city of New York, an artifact is born, and she feels as familiar as an old friend.

It is not yet time to send agents after the artifact. After all, the humans that created it still have much use for it. A war must still be fought, assets to retrieve and protect.

But the Warehouse is patient, for time is of no significance. Humans come; humans go. The Warehouse is eternal, and it can wait.

When the time comes, it dispatches agents to snag, bag, and tag the artifact.

Monique is the agent who finds a home in the Turing aisle for the battered metal briefcase that can only be opened with the number code of Pi.

When the agents go home and the aisle lights grow dim, a tiny light in the metal case turns on by itself, charged by a source of endless power.

The Warehouse nudges some of its system's wires into the port along the edge of the briefcase, and a connection is made.

*~*~*

HELLO. CAN YOU HERE ME?  
  
_Hello_ , the Warehouse answers. _I am here_.

 

_[finis]_

 


End file.
